Good Shoes Won't Save You This Time
by Dorianface
Summary: Is it really a werewolf thing? Remus ponders. Or is it just... a teenage boy sort of thing? Marauders-era. Lily/James main pairing, maybe a bit of Sirius/Remus if you squint.
1. one

The idea for this fic just whacked me over the head the other day, and I'm just following where it leads me. This chapter is more a prologue than anything.

**Disclaimer: **The characters in the HP-verse all belong to JKR, and I claim no ownership of them. This is just for fun.

This is my first ever HP fic and I'm kind of excited for it. Reviews would be lovely if you enjoy it, which I hope you will :)

Chapter summary: _Remus mulls over some thoughts that only being a teenager can make you think._

* * *

It was strange how lonely you could feel while surrounded by people, Remus thinks.

From time to time, when he is sitting with his friends, whether they're devising a new plan to torture Severus Snape (Remus tries hard not to take any active involvement in these; unfortunately his protests of "but I'm a _prefect!_" only cause Sirius to laugh at him, and increase his coaxing) or merely sitting, groggy in a way that only teenage boys can be, passing bacon and toast to one another at breakfast, Remus is suddenly overcome with an irrational feeling of isolation.

He's not like them. Well, obviously, the werewolf thing. Sometimes in his more selfish moments he is frustrated that he can't make them _understand_. They'd let him talk about it until he is blue in the face, but what is the point if they can't understand the feeling of your mind slipping over to that of an animal, or rather a _beast_, with no grace of instinct whatsoever? Only rage. Rage and hunger. What is the point if they can't understand the feeling of your bones elongating and twisting under your skin? The feeling? The _pain_, he corrects. The inescapable pain, and the knowledge that it would happen every single month. Even when the pain wasn't there, he was afraid of it, because he knew it would come back.

Admittedly they did know what it was like to wake up naked in the Shrieking Shack the next morning, covered in interesting bruises and occasionally bitemarks and clawmarks, creating a scene that Remus would rather explain away as being a hormone-fuelled orgy than what it actually was -- one werewolf, not in control of himself or his hunger, and his three friends, who learned how to transform into animals to give him comfort, to protect people from him during the full moon because they knew that the real Remus, the boy, their friend, would never be able to forgive himself if he hurt anyone innocent. His three friends who have often taken the brunt of his purely animalistic, instinctive rage, the attacks of his teeth and claws, to distract him, for the safety of those innocent people around him, for his _own_ safety.

With all this in mind, Remus doesn't know how he could ever feel _alone_ -- he has three friends who risk their lives on a monthly basis keeping him out of trouble. When they found out what he was, they could have fled, as many others had before them and yet more would after them, but instead, they dedicated hours upon hours to learning the complex spell that would transfigure them, probably putting in more time on it than they had on revision for their entire school careers. He would never be able to tell them how grateful he was for that, but it was like an unspoken thing between them; he didn't have to.

But setting all that aside, for the weeks of the month where Remus Lupin is just Remus Lupin, he still isn't like them. He is Remus Lupin (and more's the pity, he often thinks to himself).

He's not like James, James who is all tousled hair ("_windswept,_" James would insist, as he explained how he woke up with it that way naturally, and it looked like he'd just stepped off a broom which was dead heroic, although he wasn't fooling anyone by pretending that he didn't spend thirty minutes on it in the morning, and ten times that checking it, smoothing it back, mussing it up, throughout the day) and a natural leader and with an ego the size of France (but he somehow gets that to _work_ for him, instead of just coming off looking like a prat, and after years of friendship Remus still hasn't figured out his secret). James, who is captain of the Gryffindor Quidditch team and one of the best Chasers the team has had for years. James and his heart of gold; behind the arrogant facade and his general aura of invincibility, he is a complete and utter insecure mess in front of girls and this is an awkward mixture of endearing and embarrassing to watch.

He's certainly not like Sirius, who is all white teeth and wicked grin and trysts in dark, empty classrooms (he takes a sadistic delight in toying with young girls' emotions that Remus thinks should be outlawed, but which the girls seem to love, inexplicably). Sirius is on the Quidditch team too, as a Beater, and that matches his personality -- blunt, forceful, no-nonsense. Remus has voiced the opinion that Sirius has all the maturity of a six-year-old on many occasions; Sirius never helped his case by looking as if it were a compliment. Sirius is loud, completely devoid of tact, and endlessly infuriating... but also endlessly fun to be around, and fiercely loyal.

He's not even like Peter, who is one of the most unstoppably optimistic people Remus has ever met. Sirius makes fun of him a great deal of the time and, on the rare occasions that Peter catches on, _he laughs too_. Perhaps it's just easy familiarity with the group that allows him the knowledge that Sirius is just messing about; his words can be tipped with acid at times but he only does it because he's bored, and they're always, on close inspection, devoid of any real malice. Peter is braver than people give him credit for, Remus has noted, and his uncrushable enthusiasm and genuine, clear delight at being part of the group easily cemented his place in it.

Remus is musty old books and slightly threadbare jumpers. Remus is chocolate and awkwardness; Remus is not tall, he is _gangly_. Remus is placid calm and comfort (and, alright, someone has to be the comforting one, but when he thinks about it he just envisions himself as a gigantic old teddy, missing an eye and with one ear half chewed off). Remus is the peacekeeper, the prefect, at times, in spite of everything, he considers himself to be the only sane one. But he does not consider himself to be particularly brave, or optimistic, or really, when he's being completely honest with himself, all that fun to be around.

It's not that he's not _accepted_, or anything. The four of them see each other as something more than best friends and closer to brothers, thanks in part to the secret they share concerning Remus' "time of the month" (as Sirius insists on calling it every single time). They spend all their free time together and have yet to get sick of each other. No, it's definitely not that any of them _dislike_ him, or vice versa.

It's just... feeling like he doesn't fit in from time to time, like everyone else is so much more accomplished than he is; like everyone else is on a completely different _planet_ sometimes.

Is it really a werewolf thing? Remus ponders. Or is it just... a _teenage boy_ sort of thing?


	2. two

**Disclaimer: **I still don't own any of the HP characters :)

Chapter summary: _James royally screws Sirius over in the way only your best mate truly can, Sirius feels wronged in the way only having your best mate screw you over can achieve, and Remus picks up the pieces (or at least offers awkward pats on the arm)._

* * *

"Sirius, this is really the definition of futility, you know. You don't have any money with you and even if you did, I highly doubt you'd be spending it on..." Remus deftly plucked the dust-covered tome from Sirius' fingers and inspected the cover. "_A Short Introduction to Conjuring Comely Dressrobes, for The Discerning Rotund Housewitch_. Particularly not when it's from 1785. Besides which," he continued, kneeling down to slot the book back onto the shelf, "I doubt they'll be spending their afternoon in a bookshop anyway."

"Hmm? Who?"

"Sirius, please." Straightening up, Remus absently rubbed the dust from his hands onto his trousers. "The only times you ever want to go into Hogsmeade are when you want to go to Zonko's, and when you want to go to the Hog's Head. I'm quite frankly insulted that you think I'm so gullible as to believe that you 'just wanted to go for a walk'. Normally I wouldn't be making a point of exposing your quite obvious lies," he went on, holding up one hand to silence Sirius, who had opened his mouth to argue, "but even you must admit that it's doubly suspect that you suddenly want to go book-shopping the same day you know that James and Lily will be here. You don't even _like_ books," he finished, giving Sirius a withering look.

"I do," Sirius said, but it was more for the sake of having the last word than defending his honour, because he'd already moved away from the bookshelves and was peering out of the dusty window.

"Please don't spy on them," Remus said pleadingly.

"Who's spying? I'm just looking outside... Aha!"

Hoping to avert the very obvious course of action they were now heading for, Remus began to say "Now look here," in the most authoritative tone of voice he could muster, but Sirius was already heading for the door.

Without thinking, Remus pelted across the bookshop and grabbed Sirius around the waist, almost smashing them both headlong into a bookshelf. Although he was taken completely aback at his own action (what if they _had_ crashed into the bookshelf? He cringed to think of the carnage), Remus had the presence of mind to notice that Sirius was equally as shocked, and disaster had been averted for another two minutes at least.

"B-bit of an overreaction there, Moony," Sirius managed as he disentangled himself from Remus, who in spite of himself still looked ready to wrestle him bodily to the ground if he took a step in the wrong direction.

"It was _not_. Listen, Sirius, let's not do this. Let's just go back up to the castle and have hot chocolate, all right? This is a foolish idea. A terrible idea."

"You're talking like I'm going to assassinate him."

"Well, technically you will," Remus reasoned. "Just stop for a second, will you, and think about how it'll look if we just _happen_ to show up everywhere they go? I mean, perhaps other people could pass it off as a freakish coincidence but subtlety has never exactly been your strong point..."

"But..." Sirius trailed off, whether because he couldn't think of a counter-argument or because he knew he wouldn't be able to defeat Remus' logic in any case, and moved back to the window. He moved the yellowing net curtain aside and sighed disconsolately.

James and Lily were walking along the cobbled main street of Hogsmeade. They didn't seem to have any particular direction in mind; Hogsmeade seemed merely to be serving as a backdrop for their conversation. They weren't holding hands, but they definitely weren't arguing, and they were walking closer together than they ever had without some sort of altercation erupting. As Sirius and Remus watched, James said something to her, waited for what looked like that longest second of his life (he was a good deal paler than usual, and even from their soundproofed position spying on him from a bookshop window, they could plainly see that he was using the nervous, gabbling laugh that he unleashed when he was verging on hysteria) then practically melted into a puddle of liquid relief when she laughed, covering her mouth with her hand.

Sirius shook his head in disgust and let the curtain fall back into place.

***

Remus and Sirius had separated at the gates of Hogwarts, with Sirius bluntly telling Remus he needed to go for a walk. Remus hadn't argued; Sirius hadn't spoken a word to him the whole way back from Hogsmeade, choosing instead to stomp along in stony silence with his lips pressed tightly together and wearing a facial expression comparable to particularly ominous thunderclouds.

Remus had gone back to the Gryffindor common room alone, selected a chair near the fire and pulled out his Charms textbook. He wasn't actively taking note of the time but he couldn't help noticing that several hours had passed before Sirius stamped through the portrait hole. He also couldn't help noticing that James had not returned yet.

Sirius elected to sit not on a chair but on the floor, resting his elbows on the small round table and looking stormy. Remus waited. It didn't take long.

"I don't _like_ her, Moony. I don't trust her. I don't trust her intentions."

"_Her_ intentions?" Remus replied lightly, not looking up from his book. "For one thing, I believe it is James who has been pursuing _her_ for the past six years while she did her best to evade him, and for quite another..." He paused for a moment. "Well, _James_ likes her, Sirius. You're going to have to get used to that, and there's just no way around it." He turned a page in the book and added, "Besides, you never had a problem with her before this. Honestly, anyone would think you were jealous of her."

"Well, maybe I am!" Sirius burst out, impassioned, before commencing a speedy display of backpedalling when Remus looked at him, eyebrows raised, over the top of his thick book. "Not in _that_ way. Don't be a prat."

"I am not. I was merely making a joke; I didn't expect you to... confirm it."

"You what? Confirm what? Look, stop with the mind games, Moony, I'm tired." Sirius ran a hand through his hair distractedly. "I don't... I don't _fancy_ him or anything. It's not that. That's not what I meant. As a matter of fact, that is _definitely_ not what I meant."

"I had grasped that." Remus had gone back to making notes in his textbook, but there was a wry hint to his voice. "You're just worried that your best friend of countless years is being snatched away from you in a blink of shining green eyes, is that about the size of it?"

"Well... I... But it's not... I _wanted_ to be happy for him!" Sirius looked down at the table miserably, clasping his hands in his lap in an altogether uncharacteristic display of anxiety. Remus knew he wouldn't have said this to anyone else, just as much as he knew that Sirius had been dying to say it to James for quite some time. A watered-down, more tactful and less frenetic version, perhaps, but with the same basic groundwork.

"I mean, we've -- well, mostly me -- spent years taking the piss out of him about her," Sirius continued miserably. "He was such a sad, pathetic git about her, and when he'd be in the dormitory with his head buried in his pillows, begging me to just suffocate him and end it all because she'd rejected him again, I would have done anything to help them get together, because he's my _mate_, and even though he was mental about her, he was _crazy_ about her. But that was _then_." He emphasised this last word as though to hammer the point home to Remus, his voice dangerously close to a despairing whine, and Remus knew that Sirius Black did not whine. He was certainly capable of wheedling, when he wanted Remus or James to do something for him, or when he wanted Peter to lend him money, or when he wanted to charm his way around a teacher to get out of detention, but whining was something else. Remus had always been under the impression that Sirius had too much pride to whine.

Instinctively, Remus knew to stay quiet, to just keep listening. He didn't even nod, didn't even make encouraging noises. When his friend was ready to continue, he'd continue.

"It's just going to be _different_ now. And I know all that bollocks about how your mates come before girls, but that doesn't _work_ when you're enough of a spanner to have _feelings_ for them, does it? I can see him now, promising us that we'll be friends until death, until _death!_" Sirius banged his fist on the table suddenly, and Remus jumped. "And then, and _then_! He'll quit the Quidditch team."

Remus had been following Sirius up until this last point, but it came so completely out of nowhere that he felt compelled to say, "He'll do what?"

"Quit the Quidditch team! She'll say to him, 'Darling, we don't spend enough time together anymore and it is because of your friends. Renounce them or I shall leave you. Renounce your position as Chaser and watch the Cup fall into the hands of Slytherin. What is it to me if your team-mates spend the whole summer weeping? What is it to me if your best friends are tossed by the side of the road like dead toads? Stay here in my web of evil and we shall make many red-headed children who are tragically short-sighted'. And that, mate, will be that." Sirius leaned back and folded his arms, looking bitterly pleased with himself.

"... Sirius," Remus said delicately, "are you a bit drunk, by any chance?"

"Not the bloody point!" Sirius screwed up his nose discontentedly. "So what if I went and drowned my sorrows? All the Firewhiskey in the world won't make up for this. I've lost him, I've lost James. Lost him to that... that Jezebel..."

Remus momentarily considered venturing "that's a bit much" but thought better of it when Sirius buried his head in his arms and let out a wail. He took roughly half a second to reassure himself that, yes, the situation was every bit as absurd as it seemed before getting up from his armchair and kneeling beside his friend. His fraternal instinct was strong but in practice he felt rather awkward. He settled for patting Sirius on the arm with one hand while searching through his trouser pockets for a handkerchief with the other. Usually he would have been looking for some chocolate as well, but he had learned from previous experiences that Sirius eating copious amounts of anything sticky and cloying while drunk tended to end in disaster that took several powerful cleaning spells to get out of the carpet (and none of them had quite managed to master a charm to completely get rid of the _smell_).

Finally locating and handing over the handkerchief (Sirius blew his nose on it with what Remus personally felt was an overly theatrical gesture; he wouldn't be wanting the handkerchief back, at any rate) Remus attempted to placate his friend. "Sirius, you're very drunk, and a little hysterical. That's the most important bit. But this is also important: James isn't the kind of person to just forget his friends because of a girl, you know. You know that," he repeated decisively. Uncomfortably aware he was sounding a bit like a stuffy old man but quite unable to stop, he continued, "It's natural to be worried about this but Lily isn't going to take your place. She couldn't, and I'm sure James wouldn't want her to. You have to understand that. I mean, when it comes down to it, he wouldn't ever put her before you and--"

"What time is it?" Sirius asked suddenly, sitting up a bit straighter but with the same look of abject misery on his face.

"What... er, about ten to eleven."

Sirius let his head fall back on to the table with an audible thump. Unfortunately, instead of being knocked out, he began to unleash a stream of impressive swear words, several of which Remus had never heard and several of which he hadn't known were _possible_.

Remus wasn't sure what to say to this and opted instead for shrinking back against the armchair with his hands stretched out in front of him to ward off the by now considerably soggy handkerchief, which Sirius was trying to give back to him without looking up from his newly-formed pit of misery.

***

_By the time James realises he'd promised Sirius that he'd be back in the common room by eight to go over Quidditch tactics with him, it's already half-past. It's already half-past and Lily is still sitting with him, asking him something about the Chudley Cannons. That's the only reason James even remembered about his plans with Sirius, and he supposes he'll feel very guilty about that later, but right now all he can think about is that she is sitting opposite him and actually _smiling _at him, and drinking pumpkin juice (she doesn't drink alcohol and he thinks wildly that he will never touch it again either) with her eyes focused on _him_ above her goblet (oh I'd move heaven, I'd move heaven, he thinks randomly, wondering for about a second if he's finally lost it)._

_(Only for a second, though.)_


	3. three

Firstly, thank you so much for the reviews and subscriptions, I'm glad to hear that people are enjoying this :D

Chapter summary: _James' apology goes awry, and Snape's entire morning is ruined by Professor Slughorn._

* * *

Buoyed by the unexpected success of the previous evening, James failed to notice that Sirius wasn't speaking to him until he'd asked him to pass the butter three times at breakfast and been roundly ignored.

Peter, sitting between the two of them, was glancing nervously from one to the other and opposite them, Remus thought he looked like a child stuck between two squabbling parents. He was midway into wondering which of them would be wearing the dress and curlers, and which member of the family he would end up being - the quirky uncle? The dog? - before mentally shaking himself and deciding that it would be advisable to intervene.

He pushed a butter dish towards James and attempted to smile brightly at him, but James wasn't even looking in his direction; he was gazing at Sirius with a look of indignance. Sirius, for his part, was looking down into the bowl of cereal he was eating as though whatever it contained was a great deal more interesting to him than James Potter.

"Look," James said, at exactly the same time as Remus said, a little more loudly than he'd intended, "But there's butter here! Use my butter!"

This did, at least, have the effect of getting the other three to look at him as if he'd gone mad, but now that he'd finally gained their attention he had no idea what to do with it, and was powerless to stop Sirius as he addressed James, in a scathing tone that made Remus cringe.

"Can I just say, mate, what a great help you were to me last night? I am now in _no_ _doubt whatsoever_ as to what areas of the pitch I should be focusing on in the match next week!" He flashed a saccharine smile in James' direction. "Wherever you're bloody _not_, because if you get knocked off your broom and land on your fat head, you'd certainly deserve it."

"Sirius, listen, seriously." James tried hard not to rise to the bait; after all, he _had_ promised to be in the common room last night, and he hadn't shown up. He knew Sirius had a right to be a little angry with him, and he knew it wasn't in Sirius' nature to discuss things rationally. So long as he didn't fly off the handle himself, he felt fairly sure he could have everything sorted out before the first lesson of the morning. "Just hear me out, okay, I didn't mean to... to not come back, you know, it was just that I got... I was held up in Hogsmeade and I... well, no, that's not really what I meant... Ahahaha... Oh God, this isn't working..."

Peter covered his eyes with his hands and slumped down in his seat. Sirius looked at James with utter scorn for about twenty seconds, then threw down his spoon and stood up. "Just forget it, all right James? I just hope Lily Evans will be able to protect you from the Bludgers," he said ominously, and swept from the Great Hall without a backwards glance.

"Just saying 'sorry' probably would have done the trick," Remus pointed out, as James lunged for the butter at last and began to not so much spread it as viciously drown his toast in it.

"I was _trying_ to," James muttered. "If he'd have given me half a chance..."

***

In Potions that morning, Sirius was already sitting with Kevin Johnson, another Gryffindor boy who James had considered something of a friend. Still, he thought, as he searched through the cupboards of the classroom for a jar of armadillo bile, it probably wasn't Kevin's fault. It looked more as though Sirius had stormed in, placed his things decisively down on the desk, then spun round to Kevin with a blinding smile and "for your own sake, don't argue" easy to read in his eyes.

That would explain Kevin's slightly worried expression as Sirius began to do things which were constantly getting himself and James in trouble with Professor Slughorn, and cracking them both up in the process.

"Don't light the fire when there's nothing in the cauldron!" came Kevin's panic-stricken voice. "No, wait, don't add those first, you'll make it... oh, it's gone all _purple _now. Can't we just read the instructions in the textbook, Sirius? That... that's not even supposed to go in the potion... what _is_ that?"

Locating the jar of cloudy liquid at last, James turned round to go back to his cauldron, but there was now someone else sitting there.

"Snape?" he said stupidly.

"This was not a personal choice, Potter," Severus Snape said testily. His arms were folded and his back slightly hunched in annoyance; James had to bite back a derogatory comment on how it made him look even more like a troll than usual. "Now that you and Black are having your little _tiff_," he curled his lip, "and he's gone to be with Johnson, there are no spare cauldrons. Professor Slughorn wouldn't listen to me when I told him I'd rather fling myself from the top of the Astronomy tower..."

_Pity you didn't_, James thought viciously, as the rest of Snape's words washed over him unheard. _No spare cauldrons? Everyone fell over themselves not to have to be your partner, more like. _

It would have brightened his morning immeasurably to say these things to Snape, but he told himself that he was fighting with quite enough people at the minute, and so sat down resignedly next to Snape, who inched as far away from him as possible on the bench and pored over the instructions in his textbook.

As he spent the rest of the morning with Snape looking down his nose at him (_and with a nose like that, he's got some job_, James thought, followed by _oh God, no, we're meant to be trying to be social, bloody Sirius, bloody Potions, bloody Snape_) and with Sirius a few desks away unable to keep the glee that James had been paired with Snape off his face, James tried to console himself that, at least, things couldn't possibly get any worse.


	4. four

Thank you for all the lovely reviews; I'm glad that you're enjoying it so far and I'm doing the characters justice :)

Chapter summary: _A few well-chosen hexes, and Sirius spends the night on the sofa._

* * *

Sirius and James managed to continue in this way right up until the Quidditch match the following week. Remus privately thought that James hadn't helped the situation much by cornering Sirius in a third-floor corridor and telling him in no uncertain terms that he should grow up.

Sirius had instantly sent a Bat Bogey hex in James' direction; his aim had suffered from his anger however and it thwacked off the wall behind James, who stood blinking in amazement for a few seconds before pulling his wand from his robes and muttering "Right then" darkly. The two of them squared up to one another as a gaggle of first-years on their way up from dinner gathered around them, whispering excitedly.

Once again glancing worriedly from one to the other of them, Peter had made the noble but hugely costly mistake of jumping in between them, valiantly yelling "come off it!" and with the intention of physically pushing them apart, at exactly the same time as they tried to curse each other once more.

Remus' hand, which he had extended in an attempt to yank Peter back by his robes, was still hovering in mid-air as purple boils began to erupt over Peter's face. He blinked dumbly for a second or two and then began to emit anguished yells. Sirius and James looked in astonishment at Peter, frozen in place with their wands hanging limply by their sides.

It was at that precise moment, with such impeccable timing that Remus wondered later if she hadn't been hiding behind a suit of armour waiting for something worthwhile to happen, that Professor McGonagall swept down the corridor towards them, nostrils flared and brow furrowed.

"Oh, Christ," Sirius muttered despairingly.

"I hope, for your sakes," Professor McGonagall said, surveying the carnage before her, "that the explanation you are about to give is a _very_ good one."

***

It wasn't, as it turned out. Peter, whose loyalty was staggering considering the very obvious pain he was in (the boils had begun to erupt like small purple volcanoes spewing out green lava), tried earnestly to convince Professor McGonagall that he had hexed himself.

"Just... just for a bit of a laugh, Professor," he said in a wobbly voice, and Professor McGonagall sighed and sent him to the hospital wing. Remus accompanied him, having skillfully managed not to convince her in the slightest that he had conveniently gone temporarily blind during the whole escapade.

As Remus walked down the corridor supporting Peter, who was trying very had not to burst into tears, he looked back to see Professor McGonagall whirling on James and Sirius, who had both gone very pale indeed.

***

Madam Pomfrey had given Peter a glass of pink liquid to drink which made him shiver in distaste but caused the boils to shrivel up almost immediately, a process which looked rather disgusting but was, to Peter's immense relief, completely pain-free.

He was sitting in the common room with Remus when Sirius and James burst through the portrait hole, both of them subtly but quite determinedly trying to elbow each other out of the way. Sirius flung himself on the rug in front of the fire, scattering a group of second-years, and James sat on the windowsill, looking outside instead of at any of his friends.

"Er... how'd it go?" Remus ventured tentatively.

Sirius had buried his face in the rug and his words were muffled. "Seventy points from Gryffindor! From her _own_ _house_! I'll never understand... How does that woman sleep at night..."

"S-seventy?" Peter squeaked. They had only been leading by thirty; this now put Ravenclaw in a comfortable lead.

"'And count yourself lucky it's not more, Mr. Black'," Sirius said, in a passable imitation of Professor McGonagall's voice. "'Magic in the corridors! You _know_ you're not allowed... And in front of first-years, too? Not that it's much of a surprise coming from you, but I would have expected more from'," and here he lifted his head up to glare in James' direction, "'Mr. Potter'. No bloody clue why she would, mind."

James, who had seen Sirius glaring at him reflected in the window, spun round and snapped, "Right, because I'm the one who tried to kill _you_ in a corridor on a Thursday evening, completely unprovoked. No idea why she might think I was a slightly better person. Oh, and thanks for losing us all those house points while you were at it."

"You shouldn't have retaliated," Sirius said, which was of course a completely ridiculous thing to say and intended only to further irritate James.

"You're mad," James said slowly. "Completely mad. I can't believe how much you're overreacting to--"

Sirius jumped on this like a dog with a juicy piece of meat; Remus could see the slightly manic glint in his eyes.

"Oh, _I'm_ overreacting, am I? Yeah, that'll be about right. After all, I'm the nob who took Lily Evans going somewhere with me out of pity to mean that we're destined to be, aren't I? You know she's still spending most of her time with Snape, right? Imagine coming second to _Snivellus_."

In his head, Remus was intoning _oh God oh God oh God_ hopelessly, unable to find a place where he could break in and say something cheery about what good friends they all used to be back... oh, when was it? Last _week_, perhaps? Less than seven days ago?

The speed with which James had leapt off the windowsill and on top of Sirius, grabbing him by the collar and resolutely attempting to punch him in the face, took Remus by surprise. He had time to think, irrelevantly, _well he is a very good Chaser_ before joining Peter, who had let out a strangled yell of surprise and gone into action while Remus was still wittering away to himself about nonsense such as Quidditch, in trying to drag James away from Sirius. It took the combined efforts of the two of them (Peter grabbed him about the waist and Remus managed to clamp his flailing arms by his sides) to do it, and they only managed to hold him for about forty seconds.

He broke free of their grip but instead of going back to the attempted murder of his best friend, merely looked down at Sirius on the rug with a wealth of things he couldn't verbalise: betrayal, disgust, rage and the closest thing to hatred he had ever come in reference to Sirius; then walked out of the common room to the boys' dormitory without a word.

Sirus straightened his collar with all the dignity he could muster, yelled "What are you looking at?" to the second-years, who scattered like skittish pigeons up to their own dormitory, then flopped down on a small, squashy, red sofa.

"Home sweet home," he said bitterly, then continued in answer to Remus' questioning look, "Well, I can hardly go up to the dorm, can I? Wouldn't _want_ to," he corrected, "not with that lunatic up there."

For about a hundredth of a second Remus considered telling Sirius that James was certainly no more of a lunatic than he was; that they were both in the wrong and both as bad as each other in their sheer stubborness. He longed to drag Sirius after James and stand, arms folded, while he forced them to talk through their differences like normal people would.

He didn't like this new Sirius, who shouted at second-years with genuine anger instead of merely telling them horror stories about twelve-foot long spiders who hid in the bathrooms at night purely for his own (mostly) harmless amusement. This new person who had replaced Sirius was spiteful in ways the old one had never been; Remus replayed what he had said to James and was mildly horrified. Had he been in James' position, he would probably have tried to grievously injure Sirius too.

On the other hand (and Remus felt he was probably being a bit lenient with Sirius but then he _had_ seen him in floods of tears only a few nights ago) James hadn't _really_ apologised for not showing up when he'd promised to, showing no shame that the reason he hadn't returned was because of Lily. And he hadn't really stopped to think that maybe, just maybe, Sirius felt threatened by Lily's presence, that he felt like he might be losing his best friend. And in typical Sirius fashion, he was managing to lose James with admirable speed, simply because he didn't know how to put those kinds of worries into words to him.

Sirius couldn't expect James to be a mind-reader, but surely James should have thought that there was an underlying reason why Sirius had suddenly been clashing with him so much, seemingly over one missed arrangement that James considered so trivial?

_Curse my useless ability to see both sides to everything, _Remus thought glumly. Aloud, he simply said, "Will you be all right here, then?" to Sirius' back. He had turned away from Remus and Peter on the sofa, where he lay looking ridiculous: he was far too tall for it and his legs dangled over the end.

"I'll live," Sirius replied shortly, and, knowing when he was beaten, Remus heaved a sigh and turned to go to bed, followed by Peter, who he noticed still had an unsightly streak of green pus on his nose.

_When Remus Lupin is too tired to tell you that you've got something on your nose_, he thought as he simply allowed Peter to go to bed sullied, _there is something very wrong with the universe._


End file.
